A Mother for Matilda (8 page)

Vic pushed. ‘I have a risky job.’

He watched his warning have precious little effect. ‘Your father will have my guts for garters.’

Vic felt a completely irrational surge of frustration well inside. Not caring about the interested onlookers, she levelled her partner with a dangerous look.

‘If you could fit through that hole, would you do it?’

Lawson shrugged. ‘Of course.’

Vic nodded. She’d known his answer. She’d known Lawson to knock down a wall when Matilda’s cat somehow managed to give birth to kittens in the wall space of their house. ‘Exactly. Stop treating me like I’m a still a child, Lawson. I’m a paramedic. This is what I do.’

‘No. This is not your job. It’s Rescue’s job.’

Vic glared at him. She got why he thought it was dan
gerous. She knew from her childhood adventures the rocks would be slippery and therefore potentially fatal. But when was he going to see her as a grown-up? ‘Today, right now, with Rescue miles away, it is.’

Lawson felt ill. A hundred worst-case scenarios raced through his mind. ‘As your superior officer, I forbid you to do this.’ He felt about as low as he could get.

Vic couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Heat rose in her face as the men around her shifted uncomfortably and looked at their feet. She looked at his impenetrable face and threw out one last-ditch appeal.

‘Lawson, I made a promise to Annie. If this was Matilda’s dog, if I made a promise to Tilly, wouldn’t you want me to keep it? Let me do this, Lawson. I’m a big girl. I can do it.’

Lawson knew she was right. And if it were anybody else—male, female or alien—as long as they fitted through the hole, he would have tied the rope himself. But the thought of her getting hurt was too much to bear. He was supposed to look out for her, not let her take unnecessary risks.

‘Lawson.’ She placed her hand on his sleeve. ‘Please have some faith in me.’

Lawson could see his perceived lack of faith hurt her and the plea in her voice travelled straight to his core, like a burning arrow tip singeing his flesh as it went. It meant so much to her. Could he deny her this?

Stan arrived back with a harness and a helmet and everyone looked at Lawson expectantly. ‘All right. But one slip and you’re out of there.’

Had she not been standing on a narrow rocky shelf with the roiling ocean not far from her feet, Vic might
well have hugged him. But there was no time for that anyway so she climbed into the harness and helmet Stan had delivered instead and waited impatiently while Lawson took for ever to fuss with the ropes.

‘Lawson,’ she chided. ‘Enough already. The tide is coming in.’

Lawson gave the ropes one last yank, checked her helmet was securely fastened, shoved a torch in her belt and sent her on her way. ‘Make sure you can come back out again before you step in there proper,’ he instructed, taking up first position on the rope just outside the opening of the crevice.

The others fell in behind him, each grasping a section of rope. Lawson sent one of the policemen up to the top where Bella had fallen in so he could have another pair of eyes on Victoria.

Victoria slipped through the narrow space. It was a bit of a squeeze but she managed it okay both ways. ‘I’m going in.’

‘Be careful,’ he warned.

She nodded and turned away. His gaze had lit with a startling fierceness and she didn’t need that as she attempted the potentially treacherous trek. She’d rather focus on her anger at him for coddling her, for treating her with kid gloves. It would keep her determined.

The air inside the cave was dank and salty. Light filtered in through the many small holes in the walls eroded away over the years but it was still significantly darker. ‘Hey, Bella,’ she called, inching slowly forward on the narrow ledge she found herself on, concentrating on each footfall. ‘I’m coming, girl. I’ll be there soon.’

The answering whine was comforting and gave her a focus in the ever-encroaching dark. She stopped and fumbled for the torch, flicking it on. The sucking noise of the sea creeping up the ledge seemed less ominous in the torchlight.

Lawson’s pulse thundered through his head as he watched her slow creep forward, ready to snap hard on the rope should she stumble. He couldn’t hear a thing over his heart rate and the noise of the surf as he concentrated on her progress.

He finally lost sight of her as she veered to the left, and felt his pulse accelerate. Then her shadow sprang to life on the opposite wall of the cavern and he breathed a sigh of relief. She must have flicked on her torch. ‘How much further?’ he called.

Vic could see Bella fully now and smiled at the shivering mutt. ‘A few metres,’ she said, turning her head back towards the opening so she could be heard above the surf that echoed loudly all around the cave.

She turned back in time to see the cocker spaniel trying to get up and then yelping as the pain stopped her progress. ‘Stay still, Bella,’ she crooned, putting out her hand frantically to still the dog’s efforts.

In desperately trying to comfort the injured Bella, Vic’s concentration lapsed for a second. One fatal second. A quick unchecked step towards Bella and she was slipping, teetering, falling. The torch fell out of her hand as she grabbed the rope. She called out but it was too late, her body falling hard against the rocky surface, winding her as she was sucked under the water.

Lawson felt the tug on the rope and reacted within a split second, yanking hard on the rope. ‘Victoria!’ he
roared. He turned to the men behind him. ‘She’s down. Pull! Pull, damn it!’

The men, also reacting within seconds of Lawson, heaved and hauled while Lawson called out. ‘Victoria! Victoria.’

Vic felt the tightening around her waist as she grappled with the rock surface, trying to get a hold beneath the water. She felt herself being dragged up and broke the surface quickly, gasping for breath. Tears stung her eyes as pain slid like a stiletto between her ribs with each inhalation.

The tension on the rope continued to pull her higher, scraping her cheek and her hands against the rough rock as she regained ground. She could hear Lawson yelling her name, hear the note of absolute panic.

She took a breath to call out to him, but it hurt too much to breathe. To move. To think. Her heart hammered in her chest and that hurt too.

‘Victoria!’ Lawson pressed his face to the crevice but he still couldn’t see her. ‘Heave,’ he shouted again.

Victoria lay like a drowned rat clinging to the rock surface. Slowly the winded sensation eased and she could breathe easier. She pulled herself into a sitting position.

‘Lawson,’ she called. It was pretty feeble so she tried again. ‘Lawson!’

‘Victoria?’ Lawson angled his head to try and see her. ‘Are you okay?’

His voice sounded marvellous and she wished he were here beside her. ‘Just a bit…winded,’ she panted.

‘Hang on, we’ll haul you back.’

Victoria looked up at Bella, who whined and watched her with wise eyes. The noise strummed at her heart-
strings. She felt the tension on the rope again and she was yanked a foot back the way she’d come on her backside.

It jarred through her sore ribs and she grabbed the rope. ‘Stop,’ she shouted, wincing at the effort. The rope slackened immediately.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’ She grabbed the cave wall and pulled herself up, pain shooting a hot arrow up her side. ‘I’m not coming out without this damn dog.’

‘Yes, you are,’ he shouted. ‘Even if I have to drag you out on your backside all the way.’

‘Don’t think I won’t cut this rope loose, Lawson,’ she threatened.

Lawson swore under his breath. He believed her. He took a deep breath, his heart rate still not returned to normal from the scare she’d just given him. ‘Hurry.’

This time she didn’t take her eyes off the rocks. Luckily for her the torch had landed on the ledge further along, illuminating her path.

She reached Bella within a minute and the dog seemed to know what a tight spot they were in, licking Vic’s hand as she reached out to pat the frightened animal. ‘It’s okay, Bella. I’ve got you now. Annie’s waiting for you.’

Vic could see blood on her hind legs and the left one looked badly broken. ‘I’m sorry, girl,’ she crooned. ‘This is going to hurt a little. For both of us.’

Vic lifted the animal, the pain in her side intensifying. Bella yelped. ‘Shh, Bella. I know. You’re hurt. We both are. Let’s get out of here.’

Vic tucked the dog’s body into hers, grateful for the warmth. She was totally soaked and shivering from the
shock and the dank coolness of the cavern. ‘I’ve got her,’ she called. ‘I’m coming out.’

And just in time too. The water was lapping the ledge as Vic inched her way back to the crevice. Bella was whimpering quietly and Vic didn’t mind admitting she was petrified she would slip again. When Lawson came into sight she almost wept.

‘I can see you. You’re doing well,’ he called. ‘Just a little farther. Don’t rush.’

Vic nodded. She was so cold, her teeth were chattering now. She reached the opening and Lawson was just on the other side and it was only Bella in her arms that stopped her from reaching through and grabbing him. He’d never looked better.

Lawson couldn’t see her that well in the darkened cavern. All he knew was that she’d made it back and he wanted her out of there ASAP. ‘Pass her through to me,’ he instructed.

Vic’s wince as she manoeuvred Bella into a good transfer position was covered by the dog’s yelp. ‘Her leg’s bad,’ Vic said. ‘Be careful.’

Lawson eased the dog gently through the opening and passed her on. Doug was waiting further up in a safer spot to receive his patient.

‘Now you.’ Lawson’s heart thundered again. He knew it wouldn’t return to normal until she was safely out of the cave.

Vic nodded, turning on her side to squeeze through the crevice. She put her arm out first to anchor herself to the outside and shimmied through. The tight squeeze seemed tighter in her wet overalls and abraded her injured side so that she was gasping when she
finally emerged into the daylight straight into Lawson’s arms.

Lawson held her tight, his relief overwhelming. She looked awful. Pale and wet, her lips practically blue, her teeth chattering. She had scratches on her face and her hands were bleeding. She winced and he stepped back. ‘What’s wrong?’ Lawson demanded.

‘Fell hard on my ribs,’ she dismissed.

Lawson’s hands tightened around her arms. He could see from the dullness in her whiskey eyes she was hurting. If they hadn’t been on a rocky outcrop, the sea pounding not far below them, foaming against the rocks, he would have swept her up into his arms and carried her back up the headland.

‘Come on.’ He placed a blanket Stan had passed him around her shoulders. ‘Let’s get you to a hospital.’

T
HE
next couple of hours passed in some weird kind of vortex. Lawson reacted automatically; his years of practice and experience as a paramedic came to the fore as he did the things that needed to be done. He shut out who his patient was altogether. It wasn’t Victoria—he just didn’t allow it to register.

He sat her in the back of the ambulance, slapped on some chest dots, put the saturations peg on her finger. When it was obvious pain made it difficult to remove her overalls so he could inspect where she’d impacted the rocks he simply took out his shears and cut them away, ignoring her protests and attempts to cover her modesty.

He forced the nausea down as the livid bruise, already a deep purple-black, came into view. It marred her entire side from the top of her ribs to her waist and he tuned out her wince as he methodically but gently palpated around it.

Satisfied she hadn’t done any obvious internal damage—her sats were good, her lung fields clear and her pulse and blood pressure were normal—he wrapped her in several blankets and requested Stan drive them in to the hospital. He stayed in the back and watched her
as he would any patient, refusing to let his mind wander to the what-ifs.

They didn’t talk. She drifted to sleep, he watched the monitor, tapping his foot as each mile seemed like one hundred. When they finally reached the hospital he handed her over to the medical staff as if she were any of his patients with a precise, methodical summary.

He didn’t protest when they swarmed around her, pushing him to the back. No siree. She was in safe hands now and he had other things to do before he could stop and think about the events of the day.

He went back to the island and returned the ambulance and organised cover for the remainder of the shift and their day shift tomorrow. He also dropped into the Dunleavy residence. He marched straight to her bedroom, opened her wardrobe and searched through her drawers, looking for something suitable for her to wear. It wasn’t exactly an appropriate thing to be doing but Bob and the twins were camping for the weekend a couple of hours’ drive away and she’d refused to let him ring them.

So she needed a change of clothes, which left it up to him. And anyway, this wasn’t about Victoria the woman. This was one partner doing the other a favour. She would have done the same for him.

In her second drawer he found some loose-knit tracksuit pants and a stretchy-looking T-shirt. He contemplated opening the top drawer, where he could already see interesting hints of lace and flashes of colour through the partial opening. But he couldn’t do it. She was just going to have to go commando.

He strode out of the house, got in his car and headed
back to the hospital. He steadfastly refused to think about her pale face, her bloodless lips, her bedraggled hair as he drove. And every time his mind wandered to the afternoon’s incident he consciously dragged it away, forcing himself to concentrate on the peak-hour traffic and getting to the hospital safely with her change of clothes.

It wasn’t until he arrived at the hospital and the doctor informed him that her tests were fine that Lawson allowed himself to feel anything. His insides were trembling and there was a roaring in his ears so loud he could barely hear the doctor talking about her X-ray and abdo ultrasound being clear. And how satisfied they were with her observations and how lucky she’d been.

‘I think it’s wise she stay overnight though,’ the doctor concluded. ‘Just for observation.’

Vic, who’d been dozing on and off, had tuned into the low rumble of the voices beside her trolley a few minutes ago. Her eyes fluttered open. ‘No,’ she croaked.

She hated hospitals. The smell and the tragedies found inside their walls. Her mother had died in this hospital. Ryan had not long been an inpatient here. It was bad enough she spent most of her working life in and out of this place without being an overnight guest.

The noise inside his head snapped off as if a switch had been flicked. She looked like hell. Better, but still awful. The graze on her left cheek was more pronounced now she had some colour back in her face. He gave his partner a stern look. ‘Doctor’s orders.’

‘I suppose you could go home if there was someone there with you.’

Lawson shook his head. ‘It’s just her. Her father and brothers are away this weekend.’

‘I can stay at Lawson’s,’ Vic told the doctor. She turned pleading eyes in his direction. ‘Can’t I?’

Lawson blinked. Another night under his roof? He wasn’t sure he could do that and not end up throttling her for scaring the living daylights out of him. Or after what happened last time. ‘You’re better off here.’

‘I’m fine,’ Vic insisted. ‘You heard the doctor. It’s just a precaution.’

Lawson gave her an exasperated look. Was she being deliberately argumentative today? If she’d just listened to him on the headland she wouldn’t be in this predicament. He folded his arms across his chest. ‘Maybe one that should be heeded.’

Vic frowned. Was the prospect of spending the night with her that awful? ‘Please, Lawson.’

Lawson expelled a breath succumbing to the inevitable. ‘Okay.’

‘Good.’ The doctor nodded. His pager beeped and he pulled it off his belt and read the message. ‘I’m sorry I can’t stay. A multi-trauma’s two minutes out but you’re free to go when you’re dressed and ready. Just see the receptionist before you leave and sign your papers.’

Vic and Lawson watched the harried young doctor slip out of the curtains. ‘Right,’ Vic said, kicking off her sheet and swinging her legs over the side of the trolley. ‘Did you bring me some clothes?’

Lawson placed the eco-friendly shopping bag on the trolley beside her as he held out his hand to help her down. She landed on her feet, her shapeless hospital gown swimming on her, and swayed slightly. ‘Easy,’ he said, supporting her around the waist.

Vic shut her eyes and clutched his hand as her vision temporarily darkened around the edges.

‘Right. That does it,’ he growled. ‘You’re staying.’

Vic opened her eyes, the dizziness gone. ‘Don’t be silly. I’ve been lying flat for hours—it’s just a bit of postural hypotension. I’m fine.’ Lawson raised his eyebrow at her. ‘Really. Now wait outside while I get dressed.’

‘I’ll get a nurse to help you.’

Vic huffed out an exasperated breath. ‘Oh, I’m sure that’s just what they want in the middle of a multi-trauma—some princess who needs a hand to get her pants on.’

Lawson stood his ground. ‘You’re too unsteady on your feet to be in here by yourself.’

‘Fine, then, you stay. Just turn around already so we can get out of here.’

Oh, for Pete’s sake
. ‘I don’t think this is very appropriate, Victoria.’
Wasn’t it enough that he’d gone through her drawers for her?

‘Yeah. Yeah,’ she muttered, grabbing his shoulder and exerting pressure until he turned around. Once his back was to her she searched through the meagre bag contents for some underwear. There was none.

She was just about to demand to know where her knickers were when the thought of him riffling through her underwear drawer heated her face. Had he? Or hadn’t he? She felt it wise not to speculate when he was close enough to reach out and touch. She climbed awkwardly into her loose-fitting tracksuit pants and T-shirt without further comment.

But still she felt very exposed in front of him when
she tapped him on the shoulder and he turned. No bra. No knickers. Knowing that he knew she was totally naked under her clothes was suddenly like an intimate little secret between the two of them and despite the throb of her injuries she felt a lurch of awareness as he looked at her.

Lawson studiously avoided looking at anything other than her face. ‘Okay, then. Let’s get going.’

Vic followed him out and was eternally grateful to him when he took charge of the discharge stuff and then made her sit at the front entrance until he brought the car around.

She was utterly exhausted, the thought of walking another step too much to bear, and she’d never been more pleased to see Lawson’s sturdy four-wheel drive. It was a real man’s car. Big and solid, like him. The wheels and sides were splattered in mud, every panel displaying wear and tear. Also like him.

He helped her up into the cab and within a minute they were on their way back to the island. She waited for him to say something. The reprimand she knew was coming. She knew she’d frightened the hell out of him and that things could have ended very differently than they had.

They were halfway to the island and she couldn’t bear it any longer. Lawson’s knuckles were so white around the steering wheel they practically glowed in the dark. ‘Just say it, Lawson.’

Lawson clenched his jaw. ‘You should have stayed in hospital.’

‘You know I hate hospitals. And that wasn’t what I meant and you know it.’

He turned to look at her. ‘I know. But we’re not going
to talk about that. Not now.’ Lawson couldn’t even bear to relive that moment again.

‘It was safe,’ she said stubbornly. ‘I just took my eyes off my feet for a second. We couldn’t just stand there and let that little girl’s dog drown.’

Lawson took a couple of deep breaths. ‘Victoria, I’m not going to talk about it now. It’s a work-related matter. We’ll deal with it at work.’

Vic looked at the obstinate set to his chin and gave up. If she was honest, there was a sense of relief. She was too tired and she had the feeling that he was never going to see it her way anyway. The rock and sway of the car were wonderfully hypnotic and with Lawson being all brooding and silent it was easy for her to shut her eyes and let herself drift off.

They were pulling into the Dunleavy driveway when Vic woke. She frowned. Weren’t they going to his house? Was he that annoyed with her he’d decided to ignore medical advice and leave her to her own devices?

Fine by her.
She didn’t need any of Lawson’s passive-aggressive nursemaiding. And after the huge scare she’d had she wasn’t entirely sure being alone with him was a good idea. The last time they were alone in a house she’d kissed him and she felt a hundred times more vulnerable tonight having just faced her own mortality.

She unbuckled. ‘Thanks for the lift, Lawson. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.’

Lawson gave her a grim smile. ‘Oh, no, you don’t. I’ll be staying the night on your couch.’

Perversely, part of her rejoiced at his imperious
command. Perversely, despite her misgivings, she didn’t want to be alone tonight. ‘But…what about Matilda?’

‘She’s at a birthday-party sleepover at one of her friend’s houses.’

‘Oh.’ Vic shrugged. She knew she should push harder. Insist she’d be fine. She was a strong, independent woman who’d been looking after herself, and others, for a very long time. She didn’t need him hovering. Particularly when he inspired such twisted feelings in her gut.

But deep down she was relieved he cared. And frankly, she was way too tired to argue. If he wanted to sleep hanging from her rafters like a bat, he wouldn’t get an argument from her. ‘Fine.’

He exited the vehicle and crossed to her door, helping her out, keeping his hand at her elbow as they made their way into the house. She moved out of his hold immediately she was inside, the heat from his palm radiating to places that hadn’t felt this sort of heat in a while.

She turned away from him, suddenly regretting letting him have his way. The quietness of the house throbbed around her and she was acutely aware that Lawson’s big strong body was very near. Her hands trembled and she couldn’t decide whether she was about to burst into tears or reach for him.

She felt a surge of jumbled emotions well in her chest and she was suddenly overwhelmingly weary. Physically and emotionally.

She yawned loudly and Lawson said, ‘Go to bed. I’ll be on the couch if you need me.’

She opened her mouth to protest his bossiness, but his mouth was set in that stubborn line she’d seen so many
times before and another surge of weariness battered her defiance. Sleep. Yes. Relief for her body. And her mind.

Vic headed straight for her room not bothering to acknowledge him. She was so weary she didn’t even shower and change, just crawled onto her unmade bed and collapsed on top of her sheets. And even though it was only seven-thirty and the temptation of Lawson was mere metres away, she slept like a baby.

Lawson, on the other hand, couldn’t sleep at all. Instead he was hunkered down on Bob’s couch pretending interest in crap late-night television, occasionally checking on Victoria, who hadn’t moved from the foetal position in the centre of her bed all night.

Now the emergency was over and Victoria was out of hospital with no serious injuries, reaction had set in. The moment when she slipped replayed over and over in his mind, as did those awful seconds that had felt like hours, when she hadn’t responded to him.

And the way she’d looked as she’d emerged from the crevice. All grazed and banged up. Loose bits of her hair hanging in wet strips down her forehead, her face pale, her lips blue from the cold. His hand shook as the images flashed on his inward eye.

What if she’d broken her neck when she slipped? What if she’d got herself caught on some rocky protuberance beneath the water line? What if she’d broken a leg and hadn’t been able to move? Or the blow to her ribs had been more serious and she’d fractured them, puncturing her lung?

Lawson tried to imagine what he would have said to her father had any of those things happened to her and
she’d perished in that cave. Bob, who adored his daughter and had already been through the heartbreaking loss of one woman in his life. He didn’t have the words for that.

And what about him? They’d been partners for five years. Hell, he’d known her for a lot longer than that—twenty years. And he couldn’t imagine a world without Victoria Dunleavy in it. Yes, she was leaving in seventy days and he didn’t know if he’d ever see her again, but that was different. At least he’d know she was out there in the world living her life.

Just after three the what-ifs were driving him crazy. They were exceptionally loud in the silence of the house so he got his butt off the couch and riffled around in the pantry. He could hear Victoria coughing as he located some microwave popcorn. He got it started and went to check on her.